The Other Side of Schwarz
by Kenderlyn
Summary: A series of short vignettes/Character ketches for Schwarz. I'm trying to get a handle on their pasts and personalities for a new fic.
1. A Conversation Overheard

A conversation overheard. (an 'Other Side of Schwarz' ficlet.)  
  
The 'Other Side of Schwarz' is a sequence of short vignettes and ficlets, that are setting the scene for a new story that I have in the works. The new story will not be posted anywhere until I have finished at least half of it - and maybe find a beta reader once I do - and then maybe some plot points brought up in this sequence will make a lot more sense. I've included Misunderstood, since that was the piece that sparked the rest of the story. This is not a 'Schwarz are really the good guys' fic, (or at least, not exactly) but I hope to show them all from a slightly different angle.  
  
~oOo~  
  
"I need your help, Schuldich."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I want you to help me fake my own death."  
  
"I know that. But why?"  
  
"I thought you of all people would have known that."  
  
"True, but contrary to popular belief, I don't go poking around in people's heads all the time."  
  
"I know too much."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yes. I know all about Takatori's ill-gotten gains. It's only a matter of time before he - or one of his underlings - orders my death."  
  
"This is true. So what do you suggest?"  
  
"I was hoping you would have the answer."  
  
"Maybe I do. Now the tough question. Do you want to vanish, or are you planning on sticking around?" a pause.  
  
"I want to stick around. For him. For both of them."  
  
"I see. Then I'm going to have to brush up on my other skills."  
  
"Poor baby, it has been a long time since you used those skills." Laughing.  
  
"True, true. So how are you planning on sticking around? Do you plan on letting them know that you're still around?"  
  
"No. It's probably better if they have no idea."  
  
"Alright then. I'll have to call Silvara, since we'll need some illusions to cover you."  
  
"How soon can she get here?" thoughtful.  
  
"Three days."  
  
"Alright then. In three days I will die and..."  
  
"And another woman will take your place. Do you have any preferences for your new appearance?"  
  
"Maybe... red hair. I always wanted to be a redhead."  
  
"oh?"  
  
"Well, not your shade of red. More... scarlet."  
  
"Alright, scarlet it is."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"No. but you'd better spend this time placing your affairs in order."  
  
"I will. Three days."  
  
"Three days it is. In a way I'm glad your getting away from him."  
  
"So am I. That Takatori. And the elder boys. Masafumi is a monster. Hirofumi... he isn't so bad, unless you count his blind devotion to Takatori's ideals.  
  
"That was harsh. Especially considering-"  
  
"Don't. Don't say it Schuldich."  
  
"Alright then, I won't. I'll contact you as soon as Silvara gets here."  
  
"Thank you, Schuldich."  
  
"You're welcome, Kikuno."  
  
Well? Who guessed who he was talking to? Anyone understand this at all? Let me know.  
  
Kenderlyn  
  
- keeper of Schuldich's razor-wire shrine - 


	2. Misunderstood

Misunderstood  
  
I've changed this a little, since I've decided to keep this as part of a new story arc I'm writing. This sequence of ficlets and vignettes is called the 'Other Side of Schwarz'. It is setting the scene. Anything that doesn't make sense now, will when the actual story is posted on the net. For now, I hope you'll enjoy these little pieces, and review, review, review! It makes me write faster!  
  
I've been told that this is too 'romanticised' for Schuldih. I sort of see some things that weren't IC, even for the story I have in mind, so I revised it. But please remember, this story was created as an answer to all those stories that have Schuldich as a druggie/whore/drunkard/idiot. So I'm trying to get away from those stories. But thank you 'blah' since your criticism was taken constructively, and I was able to get a better handle on how Schuldich's story is going to run.  
  
~oOo~  
  
The German smirked as he watched the man in front of him. You've been labouring under a misapprehension, you know. Everyone looks at me, I know what they're thinking. 'That gaijin,' they say, 'he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he's stupid, he's a slut, a merciless killer...' I've heard it all. But... It's all bullshit.  
  
All the drugs and shit, I can't do that. If I drink, or do drugs, that shit breaks down my control, and if I have no control, I have no shields, if I have no shields, I can't keep the thoughts out. What's the point?  
  
As for smoking, well, if I did, I'd never move as fast as I do. So there's another little theory out the window. I just love smashing petty-minded opinions to dust. And for being a slut... see the comments on drinking. A whimper.  
  
Ah, sex. Well, that wasn't much good. With sex, my mind is... merged with theirs, and I not only can't keep them out, I can't keep me in. So I have the added problem of a security risk. I haven't had sex in years. The risks were just too high.  
  
And stupid? I don't know, am I? I read more than Crawford does. I've read all the old myths and legends, like Sigmund and the ring-quest. I don't like heavy metal all that much, I prefer to listen to something classical. I get books, magazines and newspapers in German, and I'll read those. If Nagi needs help (rarely) with his homework, he usually asks me, and he wouldn't do that if I was as stupid as people think.  
  
I can't read Japanese that well, but really, who said I was a street-kid anyway? An insincere smile. I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but, was quite simply, a geek. Straight 'a's, then, Esset. Frowns. Anyway, where was I?  
  
So, you can see how much I am underestimated, and misunderstood. But, never mind. People think I'm stupid, and that means that they don't expect me to do something clever. But, someday... I'd like someone who will see me for who I really am, and accept... He looks down Oh well, I've rambled enough for one day!  
  
Oh, I almost forgot. A merciless killer. Well, I guess even they have to be right sometimes.  
  
~oOo~  
  
There's still not a lot explained, but I want some things left for the other story to work with.  
  
Kend 


	3. Insanity's Keeping

Insanity's keeping (the Other side of Schwarz, III)  
  
Just attempting to get a handle on Farfarello's character.  
  
~oOo~  
  
Are you there God? Do you even exist? Am I railing away at a fallacy? Just to convince myself that I'm not really crazy. Am I? Maybe I'm the last of the sane.  
  
They all watch me. They think I have no self-control. Well, except for the German. He knows. We are not so very different, he and I. We are both lost in a world that doesn't care about our mental health. It only wants us to vanish. He with his voices, and I with... I'm still not sure what it is. My insanity? What my old neighbour once called 'the sight'?  
  
They see me as crazy. I may well be. But at least I do not pretend to be something other than I am. The boy, pretending to be 'normal'. With his deranged girlfriend, and his little sighs over the youngest kitten, that he thinks we don't notice. But the boy is young. He always will be. And if he is a touch naive, then we will do something about him. But not before.  
  
And our leader. 'Guilt' calls him our 'fearless' leader. But Schuldich is not guilty, and our leader is a coward. He uses his abilities to avoid danger. That is not fearless. If he cannot avoid trouble, then he flings himself into the fray, and fights like the berserker they named me. That is not brave. That is stupid. And yet he is the first to insult our intelligence.  
  
And my Guilty one. He is not guilty. Like us all, he had no choice. But he has made something of himself. He chooses to hide behind a shield, not of normality, or 'courage' but of the worst type of knave. He poses. A smirk, a wink, and people think the worst of him. But I know. He does not deserve all of the names they call him. Some, yes, but no, not all.  
  
I have often thought on why I feel no pain, is it a shield? Am I truly immune to the sensation? Or is it just a symptom of the madness that so many others see in me? I... perhaps I will never know.  
  
Cast adrift in an uncaring world, and needing something indefinable. I need... A straightjacket, the boy says. Medication, our not so fearless leader says. And my crazy, guilty German? He just laughs, and says that I need to get laid. The ultimate hipocrisy, since he preaches a plan of action that he himself would never contemplate.  
  
But until I find what I am searching for, I will wait with my sinner, and we will share the companionship of our insanity.  
  
~oOo~  
  
Do any of these little pieces make any sense to anyone? Kend 


	4. Lost

Lost (Other Side of Schwarz)  
  
The next ficlet. I've got a bit of the main fic done, but I want to nearly finish it before I post it. This is me trying to get a handle on Nagi's character.  
  
I haven't quite made up my mind on pairings for the story, even though there's none in these ficlets. If you have any preferences, let me know.  
  
~oOo~  
  
I'm lost. Just a child lost in this great wide world. Except... I'm not. A child that is. But everyone assumes that I am. They all watch, and wait for me to fail. My leader automatically believes that I will fail, or betray. When I was with her... I did love her, in a way. I loved her innocence. But it wasn't enough, and Farfarello killed her.  
  
And as for the other... he is such a slut. I sometimes wonder why Crawford keeps him around. But, he's often the only one to help me with things, when it gets too much. Farfarello would just make some crazy little speech about 'god' and who knows what else, Crawford would just tell me to deal with it. Schuldich... he listens. I know he isn't stupid, but how would someone like him know as much as he does. I see him as 'street-smart', not 'book-smart', but except for the fact that he can barely read Japanese, he's smarter than Crawford.  
  
And Wieß. They call themselves 'white' but they are not that different to us. The others believe that I have a crush on Bombay. I don't. I envy him. He kills, but he can still smile, and be normal. His smile, Tot's innocence. I want them both. If Schuldich knows the real reason I look for information on Bombay, he isn't telling anyone. I envy his amnesia, too. I wish I didn't remember what my past was.  
  
He did try to warn me, about getting too attached to Tot. but... he wouldn't understand. Why would he? He's content with his one-night stands, and his mind-games. How old was he when he first heard people's thoughts? Did his parents know? Did he have parents? Did they reject him, as mine did? How did he end up in Schwarz? I know less about him than I do Crawford. That is a frightening thought.  
  
I don't think Crawford realises. He's definitely underestimating Schuldich. It makes me wonder whether I do too.  
  
~oOo~  
  
All that's really left now, is for me to get a fix on how I'll portray Crawford, then I can really work on the arc. 


	5. The Boxer

The Boxer (Other Side of Schwarz V)   
  
**This is more of a songfic than a ficlet. The song is 'the boxer' by Siman & Garfunkel. As I'm sure you guessed, this is the last one, Crawford's fic. Let me know if it's any good. The point of these ficlets, is to get a handle on the personalities of Schwarz, and their pasts. But it is also about how they don't know each other very well.**   
  
~oOo~ 

It is odd, how listening to the radio sometimes has you listening to a song where the words can describe your life perfectly. I turned on my radio, and listened. I would never hear the end of it if Schuldich found out that my radio is set to American classic rock. But, no-one ever really knows another, even a telepath.

I am just a poor boy, though my story's seldom told  
I have squandered my resistance  
For a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises  
All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest 

But back to the song. I remember as a child, before Esset found me, that I had always like this song. My family was not wealthy, although not quite poor. I found that song very apt. But, I didn't want to talk of that. I do know how the others see me.

Well I left my home and my family when I was no more than a boy  
In the company of strangers in the quiet of the railway station, running scared  
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters where the ragged people go  
Looking for the places only they would know 

_Mein Furher_, the German calls me. The boy thinks I am cold, emotionless, the madman calls me a coward. I don't know, am I? I won't get involved with a losing fight, I don't see the point of needless bloodshed. Does that make me a coward? And why does that accusation cut me as it does? If I truly was a cold as the boy thinks, I could shrug off the accusations

Asking only workman's wages, I come looking for a job,  
But I get no offers, just a come-on from the whores on seventh avenue  
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there 

I didn't think that I was sensitive, but that is one accusation that stung a little too much. I think I'm getting weak. Schuldich is out again, whoring himself to the masses. He always comes back stinking of stale perfume. I always thought telepaths shunned physical contact, but Schuldich seems to crave it.

When I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone  
Going home, where the New york city winters aren't bleeding me, bleeding me, going home 

And Nagi. That boy. If I had know then what I do now... my visions failed me then. I saw that he would be necessary, but I have caused more trouble. The only thing that makes the idea better, is the fact that leaving him on the streets would have been crueller.

I cannot figure Farfarello out. Schuldich assumes that I know all about our mad irishman, but I don't. He is a challenge. The other part of it is, he was the only member of Schwarz that I did not select myself. The elders chose to put him with us after he showed a favourable reaction to Schuldich. 

In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade,  
And he carries the reminders of every bloke that laid him down   
Or punched him till he cried out, in his anger and his shame  
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains 

A boxer... that song, I have known it most of my life. I was a boxer once, a champion in the junior division. I wish now that I hadn't been. My success in the ring was due to my prescience, I would prefer now that I had lost every match, then Esset would never have noticed me.

I wonder if the others ever wish for the moon?

~oOo~   
  
**good, bad, appalling? Let me know.**   
  
  
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